There she sat. In the rain. There was no escape. Nowhere to go. This was her home. Her life. Her vocation.
There she sat. Her eyes clamped shut. Her body shielding her children.
Her wings unfolded, spread out covering her modest nest sheltered by only a few overhead branches. And the rain came.
Nothing buffered her from the elements except those scattered limbs and leaves.
She did not complain. She did not rebuke the heavens. She did the only the thing she could. She sheltered her children.
In those moments when I watched her patiently deal with the rain, my own life changed.
I’ve struggled with those moments that I am not good enough. Not strong enough. Not all that God wants me to be. I put on my cloak of “writer” or “author” and wrap my identity in those words.
I compartmentalize my motherhood vocation at times hoping to strive to be so much more. I want to be the breadwinner I once was. Use my knowledge for something more than teaching my own brood. I am seduced by thoughts of success. I imagine my own ideas taking flight and empowering others. I long to travel and speak and turn others toward Christ. I strive to write that novel that fuels others. I build it all up in my mind. Yes. I can do this. Just give me the chance, Lord. Let me spread my wings and fly.
And yet…God asks something else of me.
When I saw that little bird sitting on her nest, I knew it. I saw it. I experienced it.
I am to spread my wings…over my children. My family. My nucleus that God has provided me. That is my vocation. Right now. In this moment.
And the more I fight it, the less I become. Why? Because I am not honoring who I am at my core.
Yes, I am an author, a writer, an engineer. But I am also a mother. And that trumps everything.
God will honor all those desires I have. But it will be in His time, when He knows I’m ready. He knows my family. Yes, my children are growing. They are all teenagers. But they still need me. They need direction, consolation, protection and encouragement.
So until God says I’m ready, I need to remember that little bird. Obedient in the pouring rain. Vulnerable to the elements.
Because I am Mother.